


Navigation

by ObscuredTempest



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Gen, Strained Relationship, that awkward bit pre-X7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscuredTempest/pseuds/ObscuredTempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to keep going when you aren't really sure where you need to be, much less where you are at any given moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Navigation

**Author's Note:**

> So I was talking to an X player I know and we wound up on the attitudes in the beginning of X7. It spawned this. Originally posted on my Zero journal on DW; reposting it here since another author suggested it.

  
X's resignation from field work had come as a surprise while simultaneously being entirely expected (or had it?). On the one hand, he knew some would feel disappointed--that unwavering determination finally faltering?--while others would find some sort of relief in knowing at least that fight no longer rested on weary shoulders.

And others still would simply... not know what to do or what to say. So they didn't.

X wasn't even sure why he'd made the decision. 

Even as he scanned over endless data transmitted back to him, worked it into useable information to provide Hunters on the field about the terrain and mechaniloid population in the vicinity, he didn't know why he'd done it. 

"The infrastructure isn't stable; you should be able to use that to your advantage. All the same, be cautious: mind your footing." X's fingers flew over the projected keyboard and screen, dragging windows here and there while he looked for that one file he needed on the location for this op. "Do you see the console to your left?" 

Day in and day out. He wasn't _not_ accomplishing anything, wasn't _rejecting_ the efforts, just... working a little differently. He was still fighting, just in a different way. 

So why was he still so uncertain about his decision? 

Because people were still dying, he was still contributing to it--and he would always be, no matter where he fought from. Whether it was as a navigator supporting Hunters, as a medic or aid, or as a field operative or unit leader. He couldn't _not_ give something to these efforts, either--the toll would only be higher.

He'd withdrawn--and Zero noticed it more keenly than anyone, not having _spoken_ to X properly in weeks, and not through lack of effort (or effort as much as Zero could put forth--two-way street, Zero didn't have the best way with words, and there just wasn't always _time_ ). No one could deny he was a top navigator, his own field experience granting him an invaluable sort of insight, but... Zero'd cornered him after the fifth week.

"Out with it." Braced against the doorframe, arms crossed, and every inch of him expectant. Zero'd given up on waiting for X to breach the problem, and that in itself was wrong. All of this was wrong. Sometimes they just _knew_ , but other times... Other times, they closed themselves off until they were ready or until they finally snapped under the pressure.

"With what?" X was a terrible liar. He knew exactly what Zero wanted him to say. They'd worked together for longer than most current reploids had been active (would ever _be_ active, and X's heart broke), but that wasn't the only reason. He knew because Zero, in X's mind, deserved to know. Beyond that, he knew Zero understood to some extent, but that extent wasn't everything. There were still so many gaps left to fill, and even X didn't have all the answers. 

"X." A warning tone. He didn't want to start something, but if it took a shouting match to get it out in the open, he'd suffer it. Fighting with X was the last thing he'd wanted to do. They were partners, and more than that, they were _friends_. They'd been friends for longer than most current reploids had been active (would ever _be_ active, and Zero tightened his resolve). He was sure he knew some of what was running through X's mind, but not enough to help. They didn't need to share everything, didn't have to have each and every detail, but there were too many gaps for Zero to navigate.

"Zero." Plain. Flat. An ugly sound X regretted almost as soon as it left his lips. 

"What day is it?"

X's brow furrowed, unable to hide his confusion.

"Friday, 18 May, 2164." Strange question when they all had internal clocks, and he was _sure_ Zero's wouldn't be malfunctioning.

"Number."

Really?

"DLN-X." 

"Designation."

"X."

This was ridiculous; what was Zero getting at?

"Where are you?"

"I'm sorry? What is this about, Zero?" He didn't have the energy for this, right now.

"Where are you?" Firmer, this time. 

"Barracks, floor two, hall seven, room eight; Hunter Headquarters." 

"And where are _you_?" 

X went still, looking up to Zero who'd... gotten closer than the last time he'd seen him, standing by his desk rather than by the wall. 

"Because the person in front of me isn't X." Zero wasn't sure what X saw on his face, but it made the shorter android wilt. 

"Zero--"

"So where _are_ you?" 

X sat back in his seat, fixed Zero with an expression made of steel (hard, but brittle). 

"I'm _here_."

"Are you?" Zero's presence was almost tangible, heavy, and suddenly X wasn't sure if that was oppressive or exactly what he needed. 

He didn't answer immediately, looking down at his hands while Zero hovered, invading his space, pressing him to answer--to _look_ for his answer. 

For the first time in weeks, X sagged.


End file.
